


That's What You Get

by Powerfulweak



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, Waking Up in Vegas, accidental married, alcohol mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 06:02:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6692476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Powerfulweak/pseuds/Powerfulweak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a drunken night in Vegas, Lardo and Shitty wake up to discover a couple surprises (namely a ring and a certificate).</p><p>The team will never let them live this down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's What You Get

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: "I would like to see a fic where Lardo & Shitty spend a drunken weekend in Vegas. Maybe they get married by an Elvis impersonator or something."

Someone is shaking Shitty’s shoulder.

“Shitty… Yo, Shitty, you awake?” a soft voice says. It’s Lardo’s voice; Lardo must be in the bed with him. Shitty groans and cracks open one eye, staring up at the hotel room ceiling, the fan circling above them making the room even spin more.

“What’s up, Lards?” He mutters, rubbing at the bridge of his nose and trying to push back the throbbing hangover threatening to come on full-force.

“What time is it?” Lardo asks, pulling some of the sheets off of Shitty as she curls into a little ball at his side.

“No idea.”

“We’re supposed to meet Bitty and the boys for brunch at 11,” she says. Shitty snorts; who the fuck (besides Bitty) goes for brunch when they are in Las Vegas?

“A lot of people,” Lardo answers, turning over to face him. “You said that out loud.”

“I stand by it,” Shitty grunts. “Who the fuck would wake up for brunch?”

“C’mon, doesn’t a bloody mary sound good right now?” she asks. Shitty frowns thoughtfully; actually, it does.

“Ok,” he says, gingerly pushing himself up onto his elbows, “Let me just shower and…” he takes a second to take in his surroundings. “This isn’t my room.”

“It’s mine,” Lardo replies, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. “You swung by after Jack wouldn’t come out to the late night club with you.”

Shitty snorts. “Fuckin’ stick in the mud,” he mutters. “I gotta learn how to say ‘stick in the mud’ in French. Is that an international thing or strictly an American idiom?” Lardo shrugs and stands from the bed. Shitty watches her walk, naked except for a pair of boyshorts, towards the bathroom. As soon as the door clicks shut he flops back on the bed and scrubs a hand over his face. Shitty lifts the blanket, relief washing over him that he’s actually wearing underwear. He’s not really surprised to have ended up in bed with Lardo, but she is usually clothed when they do. Her being topless in bed with him threw him for a loop, to be honest.

Bits and pieces from last night start to come back to him. He remembers going to a dance club with Rans and Holster while Lardo, Jack and Bitty went to Cirque du Soleil. He remembers stumbling to Lardo’s room, demanding that they keep partying, because, c’mon, how often will they be in Vegas? Everyone else had failed him, but he knew Lardo would agree to it; Good, ol’ Lards. They’d hit a couple places off the strip, demanded their Uber driver stop so they could take pictures with the Las Vegas sign, and then stopped at -

“Holy Shit!” Lardo screams from the bathroom. Shitty scrambles off the bed, getting tangled in the sheets and stumbling to the floor as he does. Before he can ask what’s going on, the bathroom door swings open and Lardo is standing there, still topless, extending up a finger on her left hand.

“What the fuck is this?!” she squawks. Shitty picks himself up off the floor and moves closer to examine what appears to be a ring.

“That,” he begins, closely examining Lardo’s finger, “looks to be an Andover Prep class ring, class of 2011… _My_ class ring.”

“Why am I wearing _your_ class ring?” she grits out, her nostrils flaring. Shitty is at a loss for words, but an official looking document on the bedside table catches his attention. It’s like a dam breaks in his head and even more of the events from the night before come flooding back: stopping at the courthouse, then a all-night liquor store, followed by visiting one of those drive-thru wedding chapels on the north end of the strip.

“I think…” Shitty swallows hard as he picks up the paper, “Clark County, Nevada Certified Abstract of Marriage” written across the top, “I, uh… I think we got married.”

“What?!” Lardo shouts, her fury causing Shitty to stumble backwards and sit back on the bed. “Let me see that!” She grabs the certificate out of his hand, her eyes moving over the words as she reads.

“Oh my fucking God,” Lardo groans, slapping her hands over her eyes. “I was wondering why the entire team kept texting me congratulations.” She throws her phone on the bed next to Shitty and he picks it up.

He scrolls through the team group chat, everyone offering their congrats and and slew of excited emojis.

He scrolls a little further and stops on a photo sent from Lardo to the Group. It’s a selfie of the two of them, announcing their nuptials. Lardo has the camera stretched high above her head, getting carried over the threshold of the hotel room by a wedding gown-clad Shitty.

“Fucking A’,” Lardo says as she drops onto the bed next to him, pulling a sheet up over her body when she suddenly realizes that she’s pretty much naked. She glances over at Shitty with a scrutinizing glare. “We didn’t fuck, did we?”

“I don’t think so.” He says slowly, dredging his memory for anything that might say otherwise. “I don’t feel like I fucked. I’m not… sticky. And my underwear is on.”

“For once,” Lardo snorts. She grumbles and pinches at the bridge of her nose. “God, the team will never let us live this down.”

“Nope,” Shitty says, popping the “P”. Lardo’s text tone starts to chime repeatedly, a string of messages flashing across the screen.

“ _Aaaaand_ the chirping has begun.” She sweeps a hand out in aggravation. “Jesus! Even Bitty’s getting in on this shit.”

“Of course he is.” Shitty says, running a hand through his hair. “He’s probably just pissed we didn’t ask him to make the wedding cake.” Lardo lets out a soft laugh, and seeing her finally smile over this whole situation makes something in Shitty’s chest grow warm.

“Well, bright side I guess,” she looks up at Shitty and smiles. “As far as first husbands go, I guess I could do a whole lot worse.”

Shitty raises an eyebrow. “First husband?” he asks.

Lardo shrugs. “Well, yeah… We’ll have to get this taken care of, right?” Something about Lardo’s expression is off. She’s smiling but it’s not a real smile. It’s the same look she had when she congratulated him over getting into law school; the words were there, but the sentiment wasn’t.

Shitty licks at his lips, trying to process his thoughts into words.

“Or,” he begins, “Or… we _don't_?” Lardo gives him a wary look.

“What are you getting at?” she asks. Shitty rises off the bed and paces as he talks; it’s the only way he can think of to control his nerves.

“Well, I’m just saying, divorces are wicked expensive, believe me. So are annulments.” he says. “But like, what if we just didn’t do that? Just skip that part? Lemons to lemonade and all that.” Lardo’s eyes widen, staring at Shitty as if he’d just grown a dick in the middle of his forehead.

“What?”

“I’m just saying… why go through all that hassle?” Shitty knows he’s talking too fast, but he has to get this out there. “There are a lot more benefits to _being_ married than _not_ being married.”

“Are you _seriously_ asking me what I think you are?” Lardo asks, blinking slowly. Shitty sits back down next to her, taking her hand in his.

“Yeah, why not?” he says. “I think it’ll be s’awesome.” Lardo stares at him a full minute, her left eyebrow raised in confusion.

“Shitty,” She says, “You’re 22. I’m 20.”

“Yeah. And?”

“That’s really fucking young,” she says slowly, like she’s trying to explain the equipment room rules to the Frogs.

“So?” Shitty shrugs. “Really young people get married all the time. My parents didn’t get married until they were in their 30s and look how well that turned out. Age does not equal wisdom or compatibility.”

“And you think we’re compatible?” Lardo crosses her arms over herself, still clutching the sheet.

“Yeah. Don’t you?” he asks. It’s clear from her diffident look that she doesn’t disagree with him.

“You’re going to law school next year,” Lardo continues, pressing her argument.

“Yup.”

“And I want to join the peace corps,”

“I would never stop you from that,” Shitty insists, giving her a solemn look. “Would you try and stop me from going to Harvard?”

“No, but… “ Lardo makes a noise somewhere between a growl and a sigh. “You’re family will hate me!”

“You’re not helping your argument here, Lards,” Shitty says with a laugh. “Look, I’m not saying this has to be forever, Don’t get me wrong, I’d be cool with forever. If you are sick of me or this after a few months or years or whatever, will end it amicably and maturely.”

A pained look crosses Lardo’s face. “But it’ll ruin our friendship if that happens.” she mumbles.

“That is an absolute lie and you know it, Duan,” Shitty states, pointing a finger at her. “Your call here, though. You know where I stand.” Silence falls between them, Lardo’s hands still clutched in shitty, her brow still pinched in concentration.

“Isn’t this kind of… buying into the patriarchy and all the inherent heteronormativity of marriage?” she asks.

“No, I don’t believe so,” Shitty says. “By skipping normal courting rituals and the caustic traditions put upon us by the wedding industry, we are actually subverting the unequal power dynamic that society places on the newly married. We enter the marriage on equal footing and, if we so choose, we leave on equal footing.” A wide smile spreads across Lardo’s face and a laugh bubbles up through her.

“Ok,” she says. “Ok, let's stay-”

“Wait!” Shitty says, stopping her and holding up one hand. “I have to do this properly.” Lardo looks confused for a moment until Shitty slips off the bed and crouches down on one knee in front of her.

“Larissa Duan,” Shitty says with mock seriousness, taking her left hand in both of his. “Would you do me the incredible honor of _not_ divorcing me?” Lardo throws her had back in a laugh and then makes exaggerated fanning motions with her hands.

“Oh my God,” she gasps comically, “Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!” Shitty launches himself off the floor, scooping a still-laughing Lardo up into his arms, and spinning her around. Before he realizes it, they are kissing and Shitty has no idea who started it. He doesn't even care that they both still taste a little like Jagermeister or have morning breath, kissing Lardo is better than anything he could've ever imagined.

He tries to set her down on her feet, but he finds himself being dragged down onto the bed over her.

“Why Mrs. Duan-Knight, are you trying to seduce me?” he whispers, pecking the tip of her nose.

“You bet that sweet ass I am,” Lardo replies, kissing him deeply again.

 

* * *

 

Downstairs at the hotel restaurant, Bitty stares at his phone in concern, drumming his fingers on the table while the rest of their group continues to stuff their faces.

“Well, it's been 40 minutes since I texted and no replies from either one,” he announces. “Either they've had a massive fight or they've consummated the marriage.”

Jack shakes his head. “No fights,” he says, crunching on a piece of bacon. “Shitty would've called me by now if either of them had stormed out.”

“Consummated!” Ransom and Holster shout in unison, clinking their mimosas. “Pay up!” The rest of the team grumbles as they pull bills out of their pockets, slapping them onto the table in front of Ransom and Holster.

  
  



End file.
